Helping Her
by FloweredEnchantment
Summary: Very AU. Ginny Potter went insane the day her husband died. Now, years later, can her daughter pick up the pieces?
1. Yelling

I sighed as I leaned against the elevator wall. It was too cold in here, but I hadn't thought to bring a jacket. The entire hospital was too cold. Maybe that was just to keep everything clean. I really didn't care. I didn't care because I didn't want to be here, and I was going to make sure my aunt knew it. 

"Don't be like this, Lily," Aunt Hermione said, giving me a stern look. I folded my arms, not changing my mind. I had decided years ago, when I realized my mum wasn't getting any better, that I didn't like coming to St. Mungo's Aunt Hermione still insisted on visiting when I was off from school, saying that "She needs to know we remember her." I doubted my mum even knew who we were, let alone that we remembered her, but I didn't say anything to Hermione. She didn't like to be wrong, and it was easier to just agree. 

When the elevator reached the Psychiatry Ward , Hermione, the Healer who treated my mother, and I stepped out. It was empty, as usual. I followed my aunt slowly to the end of the long hall. We stopped outside the last door, and Aunt Hermione pointedly sat down on the chair across from the door. I glared at her. 

"I'm not going," I argued. "If I do, I'm going to say one word, and she's going to sit there staring at the blanket. Like always. " Aunt Hermione closed her eyes, then shook her head. 

"Lily, this is good for her. We can't ignore your mother. Then she'll never get better. Now, you are going to go in there, and talk to your mum. Go," She ordered. I groaned, but reluctantly opened the door and walked in. 

There were two white chairs in the far corner, and I went quickly to them, ignoring the woman sitting on the bed. When I sat down, I folded my arms stubbornly. I glanced at my mother, to see if I had any effect on her at all. Nothing. She hadn't reacted to anything in almost ten years. 

I was six when mum had first been put into the Psychiatric Ward at St. Mungo's. It had been the very night my dad had died. She had been there, and started screaming and cursing as soon as the Healers pronounced him dead. I had been taken away, and sent to live with my Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron. I'd been with them ever since, and was fairly happy with it. 

Mum was still staring at the blue blanket, her hands folded up in her lap. Hair fell in front of her face. She looked almost the perfect picture of someone locked up in some kind of mental institution. I tried looked everywhere but her, gazing at the all white walls. 

I pulled my legs up onto the chair. As long as I was here, I should get to be comfortable. "Hi, mum," I said softly. I might as well try, even though it would do no good. "It's me. Lily. Um… It's the summer holiday, so Aunt Hermione said I had to come see you. I've been doing okay, I guess. I just finished up fifth year, so O.W.L.'s are out of the way. " I glimpsed her way again. She hadn't moved at all. 

Suddenly, I was angry. This was absolutely ridiculous. All the anger I had kept inside, that had lately had just been waiting to spill over, came out. I stood up, and glowered at her. "What's wrong with you? Why can't you just _get over it? _The rest of us have! He died ten years ago, mum! Ten _years! _" I was 

starting to yell now, and I knew any minute the Healer would come in and pull me out, incase she tried to do something dramatic. Mom didn't respond well to yells. "He's gone!And he's not going to come back just because you can't move on." I stormed away from her, tired of having to deal with mum's issues, tired of trying to get through to her. I couldn't take it anymore. 

The Healer must have heard me, for he had been reaching for the door knob as soon as I came out. I ignored his reprimands and walked back towards the elevator. 

"I'll be in the cafeteria." I called over my shoulder. I heard Hermione say something exasperatedly to the Healer, but ignored it. I quickly rushed into the elevator. I pressed the ground floor button, then pressed my back to the wall. I ran a shaky hand through my red hair. Guilt was seeping through me. I couldn't believe I had just said those evil things. I was a horrible daughter. 

_But she's been a horrible mother_, a small voice in the back of my head whispered. That was no excuse for the words I had yelled _What has she done for you? _It continued._ Nothing except keep you up at night, too afraid to sleep. _I shook off these thoughts. That wasn't fair to my mother. 

The elevator _ding-ed_, and I stood up. A few nurses walked in, and I pushed past them. I made my way through the hospital expertly. I probably new the place better than a few of the younger Healers. 

The cafeteria had the worst food imaginable, but it was quiet, which I needed now. After quickly getting a small cup of coffee that I knew I wouldn't drink, I sat down at a table in the far back. Thoughts swirled in and out of my head, none of them really making any sense. I wished everything could go back to when I was younger. When mom wasn't crazy, and didn't try to kill people who weren't there. I wanted somebody to hug me and tell me it would be alright, that mum would get better, despite what all the Healers said. 

_You always did regret your temper_, I thought, stirring slow, small circles with my spoon. My anger had gotten me in more than enough trouble over the years. It was infamous around my family, who knew to watch what they said about certain things. Like my mother. 

_Why does everything come back to her? _I thought fiercely. My stirring speed increased. Maybe I was just on edge. Maybe everything was being blown out of proportion, because of O.W.L results. I was anxious. Growing up with Hermione it was hard not to take schooling kind of seriously. 

I sighed and closed my eyes. My head was starting to ache from all of this. I rubbed my temples, and stood to throw away my drink, when I saw something that made my heart speed up. A group of three Healers was rushing towards the elevator. I recognized two of them as the men who often analyzed mum. My eyes widened. 

Oh no.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know. This is WAY diffrent than any of the other things I'vedone. It's going to be completly AU, as you can see from the summary.I hope to get the next chapter up within the next few days. Well, I guess that's it. Remember to review!**


	2. Responding

Hermione Weasley was very annoyed with her niece's antics. First there was the little Quidditch stunt at school, now this. _I'm going to have to talk to her about all this soon_, Hermione contemplated. She felt so bad for Lily. It couldn't be easy, having her mother like this. Hermione didn't like seeing Lily so angry, but stood her ground on visiting. Lily couldn't ignore what was obviously effecting her. 

She stood up and, after apologizing to Healer Stevenson for what Lily had done, walked into Ginny's room. Hermione forced herself to look as happy as she could. She knew she probably shouldn't say too much, just incase Ginny was on edge. She looked not much better than the last time Hermione had seen her. She was pale, and her large brown eyes contrasted sharply with the sickly skin. 

Hermione went to sit lightly on one of the white chairs in the back of the room. She was nervous. What if something happened? She still had the scar on her upper arm from the last time Ginny had gone off. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek before speaking. 

"Hello, Ginny. It's Hermione. Err…Ron is doing well. So are the triplets" She said, referring the her three sons. "We're planning on spending most of the summer at the Burrow. Most of the family does now…" Hermione continued to prattle on, mentioning this and that, until the one-sided conversation sounded fake to even her own ears. 

Why couldn't she talk to Ginny like she used to? They had been best friends, able to confide in each other, and now every effort was on Hermione's part. If you could call it an effort. She danced around any subject that might upset Ginny. Suddenly, she couldn't blame Lily much for blowing up. After years of having to go through these visits, being woken up in the middle of the night by Floo when Ginny had tried to kill some poor nurse, or having Healers try all kinds of potions and spells, none of them ever working, she would have given up too. 

Soon, Hermione just stopped talking. She played with her hands, unable to look at her former friend. She was so concentrated on forcing herself to not cry out, that at first she didn't hear it. A voice. A small, scratchy voice. Only after a few seconds did it register. 

"Hermione?" 

The witch's head snapped up. She could feel her heart beating faster. Hermione looked at Ginny, who had lifted her head. Her eyes looked were than they ever had been, but now it seemed something was _there. _Before she looked lost, alone, and at times, murderous. But now _Ginny _was inside. Scared and unsure Ginny, but Ginny all the same. 

Hermione quietly stood up, and walked to the young woman's bedside. Ginny stared at her, then parted her lips slightly. It looked as if she couldn't remember how to speak. 

"Does she… hate me?" Ginny asked, so softly Hermione wouldn't have believed she'd really spoken if she hadn't seen it. Hermione slowly shook her head, unbelieving. _This can't be happening, _she thought, putting a hand lightly to her mouth. 

"Lily doesn't hate you," Hermione whispered, shaking her head just a little more. Tears were springing to her eyes. "She's just…confused, and stressed." Ginny nodded, then blinked a few times, as if she didn't know what was happening. 

Hermione backed away, then reached for the door. "I'm going to go get Healer Stevenson. I'll be right back…just, please, stay here." She didn't want to leave, but thought it better if a few Healers were around. She rushed out to the hall. In her haste, she almost ran into the man she had come to find. 

"Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione quickly apologized. She hurried to explain what had happened. "I know this sound strange, but really, I need you to come in. Ginny actually talked to me, not yelled. She seemed calm, and looked like she knew what was happening. I think she's getting better. " Hermione finished hopefully. The Healer looked doubtful. 

"Are you sure? This wasn't just another one of her hallucination?" He asked. Hermione shook her head adamantly. _Why can't he just believe she might be improving? _

"I'm positive. Come in, she'll acknowledge you, trust me." She proceeded to pull the wizard rather forcefully inside the hospital room. 

Ginny looked up, and stared up the pair. Healer Stevenson spoke first, cautiously. "Mrs. Potter? It's Healer Stevenson. I've--" He was cut off by Ginny.

"I know who you are." She snapped quietly. The Healer's eyes widened. He was take aback. This wasn't right. The Ginevra Potter profile had been labeled a lost cause by everyone on the staff. Most of the newer nurses refused to tend to her, afraid of being hurt. 

"Well then, Mrs. Potter, could I ask you a few questions?" He said politely. Ginny nodded. Stevenson swiftly sent out an alert to the other two Healers who helped with this case with his wand. He might need a few people to help restrain her, just incase this was all an act. He didn't think it was though. Before, she hadn't spoken directly to any of them. At first it seemed as if she was, but she would say something, or do something, and everything was set back again. 

"What is your full name?" He asked. 

"Ginevra Molly Potter," Was the quick reply. She stared intensely at Stevenson. He nodded, and continued. 

"Do you know where you are?" Stevenson said. 

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries." Stevenson was amazed. Just a month ago, this woman had tried to kill herself, and now she was talking and answering questions easily. 

The door opened suddenly, and two men walked in, wands raised. Stevenson waved them off, then told what Ginny had done. 

"But that's impossible," The taller of the two, Healer McAvoy, protested. "We scanned her, remember? The brain was completely lost!" There had been no trace of any thought. Hermione could remember that day perfectly. The day they'd all lost Ginny. 

"Well, we need to question her," said the other, Healer Jannes. "And probably that daughter, too. Could be a connection." Stevenson agreed and turned to face Hermione. 

"Mrs. Weasley," He started, "One of us is going to have to examine Mrs. Potter privately. We also may need to interview her daughter. You've guardianship over Lily, so we'll need you're consent." Hermione nodded. Anything to get her friend home. 

"Okay then. Is Lily still here?" When Hermione said yes, Stevenson sent McAvoy to find the young girl. "Alright. Mrs. Potter, will you come with me?" Ginny took a deep breath, and slowly stood up from her bed, pushing the blankets away. She walked a few steps ahead, then gazed at the two Healers. 

"Let's go then, gentlemen." 


	3. Questioning

Lily POV

"What's going on, Aunt Hermione?" I asked as I ran up to her. She was standing straight against the wall, biting her nails. I noticed the worried expression. "Oh Merlin. What did she do now?" 

Hermione just shook her head. This worked me up even more. "Tell me! I don't want to be left in the dark!" Hermione sighed, and ran a hand through her brown curly hair. 

"Lily, please, stay calm." I folded my arms. This couldn't be good. She looked over at the Healer who had come rushing into the cafeteria just to drag me up here. He nodded once, and Hermione continued. "You're mother talked. I mean really talked. She knew we were there, I think she has all this time. Healer Stevenson and Janner are in there," she pointed at the door across the hall, "questioning her. If everything goes well, and she's deemed safe and…_sane_," my Aunt forced out the word, " she might be able to come back." 

I stood stock still. This couldn't be happening. I had been wanting this forever it seemed. Ever since I was a little girl. And now, just everything seemed to be getting harder and scarier, mum suddenly decides to get better. My arms loosened a little. 

"How?" I breathed. 

"They aren't sure, though the Healers believe they think it has something to do with you." Hermione said. I gave her a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow."You see, what you said brought her back from…where ever she was. They think you have some kind of control over your mum." 

Control? "What do you mean?" I asked. How could I _control_ my own mother? I was incredulous. 

" Well, and this is what Healer Stevenson supposes, you and your mother have very similar personalities, believe it or not. You act so much like she used to it scares me. You may be able to help her recover because of that. And the fact they you have so much of your father in you also." Hermione glanced at me, then went back to staring at the door. 

I wrapped my arms tighter around me. This couldn't be true. I didn't hold anything over mum. I barely knew her. I had been so young when dad had died, and she was put in the Psych. Ward. But we had been close before, I guess. As close as you could be to your six year old daughter. My family had always been tight-knit, especially mum and dad. It was almost scary, how in touch they were with each other. Maybe that was the reason she'd lost it when he died. 

Silence stretched on. I strained to hear what was being said behind the door, but they must have put some kind of spell on it, for all was quiet. I was starting to get worried, and began to wonder what was going on inside. It must have been some interview...

* * *

Ginny Potter stared blankly at the man in front of her. She hated him. She hated his cold demeanor, his unbelieving attitude, and the way he didn't try. He didn't want her to get better. She could see that in his eyes. 

"Okay then, Mrs. Potter," he started, smiling falsely. She gripped her hand together tightly. _Ignore it, Ginny. Ignore it. _"Let's get started, shall we?" She set her mouth in a grim line. 

"I need to know if you are actually improving. This could be an act, just to try and get murder your daughter. You do know you have a daughter, right?" Ginny tried to hold her anger in. _For Lily. _

"Of course I do, Mr. Janner. " Her voice held barely suppressed irritation. Who did he think he was? It wasn't easy to forget you had a child. Especially one that could make you feel so guilty. 

"Yes, yes." The quill that was hovering above the table scribbled on a sheet of parchment. Ginny forced herself not to look over. It wouldn't help get her out of this place, which was really all she wanted. She kept her gaze firmly on the Healer. 

"Mrs. Potter, you do know your record, correct?" He said. Without waiting for an answer, Janner went on."Only two of our nurses will check on you, the rest too afraid, you've had been four suicide attempts in the past _year_, and almost every month you have had a kind of…fit. Do you realize this?" Ginny closed her eyes and breathed in. Yes. She knew. And she wasn't proud of it. The 'fits' were not her fault. She could barely control them. Every time she thought about him, she relived that night. The night he broke his promise, the night she couldn't forget, no matter how hard she tried. 

"I thought so." Janner concluded. The quill wrote away."Why should I let you leave, Mrs. Potter? How can I be sure you wont try to kill anyone?" Ginny opened her eyes to see him looking intently at her. 

"Because," she said softly, "I would never try to harm my own daughter. She means the world to me, and I have been an awful excuse for a mother. I should have been there for her. I want to make it up to Lily," Ginny swallowed painfully. Her throat was still soar from the last screaming episode. She dug her nails into her palm as Janner sighed. 

"I still don't believe I should send you back." He stated. Ginny pressed harder. "But if I do, who are you going to stay with? Surely not just yourself." She shook her head, and averted her eyes. "And you shouldn't hope for custody of Lily. The courts would never allow it, not with you in this current state." _Is he purposely trying to make me kill him? _

"I am not asking for custody," whispered Ginny. _Yet, _was added mentally. "I would just like to return to my family. Nothing more." The Healer licked his lips, and sighed once again. Janner folded his hands on the table. 

"Potter, I don't know…" he trailed off. Ginny looked up, pleading him. _I need this. _She though. _I can make this happen. _Janner lent back in his chair. "Alright. Here's what we can do. I could let you go," he held up a finger," on one condition. A month. If you are fine, with no problems, no maniacal fits, I can extend it for two more months. After that, we may talk about you staying with your family permanently. I'll need to speak with your daughter and sister-in-law soon though." 

And, for the first time in ten years, Ginny felt hope. A deep faith that things were looking up, finally. Maybe Lily could forgive her. Maybe now, she could have her daughter trust her, and could make amends. 

"Thank you," she spoke quietly, "so much. I can not tell you how thankful I am." Then she smiled just slightly. The gesture felt strange, it hadn't been done in so long. It was foreign. But Ginny hoped it soon wouldn't be. 

* * *

**A/N: And there you go! I'm getting this posted now, because I'll be out of town all weekend for Easter, and since school is starting again, I won't be able to get anything up until, at the VERY earliest, Tuesday or Wednesday. :)**


	4. Struggling

I tapped my foot impatiently. Janner droned on to Hermione about things we should watch for in mum. Hostile movements, language, or 'things of that nature.' Sure, sure. Let's just leave. The sooner I can get out of here, the sooner I could get out in the open at the Burrow.

It was the day after mum had first…come back, I guess you could say. We-Hermione, mum, and I-were standing in the waiting room of St. Mungo's. The three of us had to Floo out, because the Healer's didn't think it was safe for mum to apparate yet. As Janner finished up with my aunt, Stevenson came up to me.

"Now, Ms. Potter, listen to me." He said in a low tone, "Your mother is in a very weak state. I need you to watch her. Make sure she is always safe. You're her only child, and I know she loves you." I just folded my arms. So now they wanted me to babysit her? I sighed, then nodded quickly. Fine.

"Alright, come on Lily," Hermione walked up to the Floo that had been reserved for us. "I'll go first, then you're mum" inclined her head towards mum, "and then you. Okay?" she didn't wait for me to answer, instead walking into the fireplace and throwing down a handful of powder. "The Burrow!" Hermione shouted. The flames swallowed her up, and mum stepped forward.

I stared at my mother as she picked up a small bag-a few of the clothes they'd allowed her to keep- and walked cautiously to the fireplace . She copied my aunts actions, promptly disappearing. I mimicked the two, though my voice was a bit smaller than the others. I hated Floo.

I flew out into the family room of the Burrow. I managed to stop myself running into my mum's back. My family, every uncle aunt and cousin, was standing before me. All of them were smiling carefully. They knew this was coming. Hermione had come over last night and warned them. Every picture that my father was in had been taken down, and the entire house smelled as if it had been cleaned _very _thoroughly.

"Welcome home, Ginny," Grandma whispered, breaking from the large group to hug her only daughter. Mum weakly squeezed back, smiling gently. I realized I'd never really seen her smile. It looked like mine. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Mum wasn't going crazy. She wasn't screaming or cursing. A diffident improvement.

Mum pulled away first. From where I was I could see the happy tears streaming down Grandma's face. Mum went forward and greeted each of her brothers in turn. They were stiff with each other, almost like they barely knew this woman. I almost couldn't believe it.

My mother, my supposed permanently insane mother, was standing in the house I had considered home since I was young, and hugging her brothers for the first time in ten years. It was absolutely surreal, I wanted to capture it in time, remember this forever. I swiftly wiped away a tear that had made it's way down my cheek. I had promised myself so long ago that there was going to be no more crying for her.

Grandma saw me with the bag, and said, "Lily, why don't you go help your mother unpack." My eyes widened. I had to be alone with her again? It hadn't been just us since I had yelled at her.

Mum was already walking up the stairs, without a word. I had no choice. Following her, I was a little nervous. Would she say something to me? Hopefully not. Stevenson's words rang through my mind. "_I need you to watch her. Make sure she is always safe. You're her only child, and I know she loves you". _I could do this. Nothing was going to happen. Even if she did say something, it shouldn't be so hard to just talk to my own mother. Reassured, I ahead.

Mum seemed to know she was going to be sleeping in her old room. She was already there when I walked in. She stood in the middle, looking at the dresser.

"Um…a lot of your old clothes are in there," I states matter-of-factly. "Grandma didn't want to throw them out." Mum nodded. I set the bag on her bed, which I was close to. She turned to it, and started to pull out a shirt, when suddenly she stopped.

I tensed, watching mum out of the corner of my eye. Her eyes were squeezed tightly together, a pained expression painted on her features. Her hands moved down to the quilt of the bed, gripping it tightly, knuckles turning white. Her jaw was clenched together, and her thin frame was shaking slightly. I was afraid to say anything for fear of having her come at me.

Then, as abruptly as it started, the episode stopped. Mum pulled her hands away from the blanket, and she opened her eyes. The brown orbs stared straight ahead, not seeing. She backed away from the bed, and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, still looking away from me. I kept my distance from her, slightly afraid. "This bed has been here a very long time. It is the same one from when I was…younger." She went back to her bag, pulling a few shirts out and a pair of pants. I wrapped my arms around me, taking a deep breath.

_Everything is fine, Lily. Calm down. _I reassured myself. "It's fine." I answered her, a little delayed. "I'm fine." She finished with her bag, and pushed it away gently. Mum turned to me, an apology still in her eyes.

"I have no excuse. I shouldn't have…acted the way I did over the years. " Her voice got smaller. "I could've killed you." She closed her eyes again, this time to hide tears. I wanted to hug her, but was scared. I didn't know how she would react to my touch.

I fiddled with the small charms on my bracelet. "We should probably get back down. Grandma is fixing lunch." I let her go in front of me. I straggled a few steps behind, not really wanting to go back downstairs.

How close would we become? Could I even have a mother daughter relationship with her at all? I wasn't used to it. Hermione was always like a mother, but she had her sons, and they kept her busy. And my other aunts we just that. Aunts. Nothing more. I never felt like I could really ask them anything. Come to them with problems. But was I ready for my mother to come back into my life? That was one question I couldn't answer.

**A/N: Here you guys go! I actually like this chapter a lot. I was going to include some more, but I don't have time right now to type it up. The next chapter may be a little longer, and will probably be up by Wednesday or Thursday. Also, before I go, I just wanted to say that while I was writing this I listened to the Across The Universe Soundtrack (I just saw the movie yesterday, Sunday) and I LOVE it. If you have the chance to watch this movie, diffidently do it. It's great. And the soundtrack it AWESOME. Anyway, enough of this. **

**Remember to REVIEW. :P **


	5. Flying

Lunch was awkward. Very few words were exchanged, which was a complete change from normal. Usually the entire kitchen was filled to the brim with laughter and talking, but now it was silent. Uncomfortable. I had been placed second to the end of the table, next to my mother. She ate without seeing, staring blankly at her plate. I ate quickly, just wishing for it to all be over.

And soon it was; Uncle Charlie announced he and Aunt Fleur were going back home, taking their small daughter also. The rest of my family trickled out, until only Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, their triplet sons, mum, and I were left. Uncle Ron was oddly silent has he went to the family room. Hermione glanced worriedly at his retreating figure. I knew why. Uncle Ron had taken it hard when mum went to St. Mungo's. Probably the hardest out of everyone. I'd known they were close, and I wasn't sure how Ron was going to react to her being back.

"I'm gonna go for a fly," I murmured to Grandma. She nodded distractedly, putting dishes in the sink. I walked quickly out the back door, hurrying towards the broom shed. The afternoon sun warmed my cheeks, and I unconsciously smiled. Nothing was better than flying. I loved it.

I grabbed my broom from the shed, and, as fast as I could, took off into the air. The wind whipped my hair around my face. A laugh bubbled out of my mouth as I climbed higher. Flying was an escape. I didn't have to think when it was just me, out in the Burrow's pasture. Quidditch was fun, and I loved it, but it took a lot out of you. It was physically demanding, dodging bludgers and catching the quaffle. But just flying out, however you wanted, whenever you wanted, was perfect.

I still remembered the first time I was on a broom. I was only four, and dad had taken me out, against mum's avid protests…

_Flashback_

"_Harry James Potter, don't you dare!" Mum yelled, walking into the kitchen. Dad sighed as he lifted me up off his shoulders. I sat down at the table, pouting just a small bit. _

"_Aw, Gin," dad whined almost childishly, "Come on, nothing's going to happen! Just a little fly around the back, not a bit more." He looked at his wife hopefully, but she just shook her head. The pair stared at each other for what seemed a very long time to me. Just staring. Almost as if they were still arguing, only internally. Suddenly dad sank angrily down into the chair next to mine. _

"_I don't want to take the chance of her being hurt. You never know what could happen," mum said. Dad opened his mouth to protest, but mum cut him off. "I know you can fly well, but I still don't want you taking her out there." she walked back out suddenly, apparently done with her reprimands. _

_Dad pursed his lips, thinking. I looked up at him. "You want to go flying, don't you, Lilly-Pad?" he asked, turning to me. I nodded quickly, bouncing up and down. _

"_Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" I squealed. Then I frowned. "But mummy said no." I put on my best pleading look, the one I knew worked every time on dad. _

_He grinned mischievously. "What mummy doesn't know won't hurt her." Dad stood from his chair, and pulled my tiny frame up into his arms. "Or me." He added. I giggled. He glanced around the doorway, then inched towards the backdoor. He motioned for me to stay quiet. _

_Soon we were outside, and dad was setting me on the hovering broom. "Hold on tight, alright?" nervous butterflies swirled around my stomach as he sat behind me and made the broom rise. I smiled as we rose higher and higher. Then we were moving so fast the trees around me blurred, and my short red hair flew back. I nervously laughed, then screamed as we dove down. This had to be the best thing I had experienced in my short four years. Nothing could be better, nothing could come close in comparison, to this wonderful stomach-dropping excitement. _

"_This is great!" I yelled over the wind. Dad barked out a laugh, and pulled up from the dive. He looped, and I felt my head spin. "Do it again! Again!" The night air brushed against my face, and I knew I would always remember this. Two speedy whirls around the backyard and four or five loops later, I was sure my face was never going to loose the smile. But then I heard it. _

"_HARRY JAMES POTTER, BRING HER DOWN RIGHT NOW!!" Mum screamed from the ground. I looked down, unafraid of the height. Her arms were crossed, a furious and slightly frightened look portrayed on her features. I felt the broom slow, then start to make it's way to mum. _

"_Damn," dad cursed under his breath. "Should've been more careful…" All to quickly I was being taken off the broom and set on the ground. My small legs were wobbly, and I grabbed the end of dad's shirt for support. _

"_I told you not to take her out!" mum scolded. Dad seemed to small under her gaze. I was amazed that my mum could do that to him. He was afraid of nothing, except his wife when she was angry. "And what do you do? You brought her flying! What if she had fallen?" _

"_I wouldn't have let her fall." He stated. I believed him. Dad never let anything happen to me. Every time I was hurt in any way, he was there. _

"_Harry…" Mum trailed off weakly. She closed her eyes. After a few seconds, dad pulled her into a hug. She pressed close to him. I didn't understand. It was just a little fly around the backyard. Even if I had fallen, it couldn't be that bad, could it? _

"_Shh, don't think like that," dad whispered in her ear. Mum pressed her face to his shoulder. "Don't worry, it won't happen." I had no clue what he was going on about. Surely not the flying! If so, they were making a very large deal out of nothing. I walked to them and hugged mum's leg. _

"_Don't be sad, mummy. Flying was fun, and I'm okay." I tried to reassure her. Mum chuckled softly, and bent down to fold me in her arms. I snuggled closer, breathing in her mum-like smell. Mum pulled away, and smiled at me. _

"_I know, love. Come on, inside. Maybe we can find some of those cookies Grandma us, hmm?" My eyes lit up, and jumped up and down, completely distracted. Dad laughed , then wrapped an arm around mum's waist, and we made our way back into the house. _

_End Flashback_

When I saw mum standing down below by the Burrow, I almost threw up. It was the exact scene from twelve years ago, but this time her face was curious and slightly happy. I sighed. I should probably go down and greet her, but I didn't want to. I had been having fun, and now I had to come back to reality.

I gave in and flew to mum, landing just a few feet away from her. Throwing the broom over my shoulder, I made my way over. Her hands were clenched tightly together, and she was pale. Nevertheless, mum looked like she wanted to ask me a million questions.

"Hey, mum." I said, coming up to her. I turned towards the broom shed, which was a little ways away. "I'm going to go put my broom up." We started to walk towards it. There was an awkward silence, until mum spoke out.

"I didn't know you flew. It was quite amazing." I looked straight ahead.

""There's a lot you don't know about me." I knew it was mean, but it just slipped out. I saw the hurt out the corner of my eye, though I tried my hardest to ignore it. Mum was persistent.

"Do you play Quidditch? At school?" When I nodded, she asked what position. When I answered Chaser, she seemed to start.

We had reached the broom shed, and I quickly deposited my broom, then turned on my heel and walked in the direction of the Burrow. Mum followed. Couldn't she see I wanted to be alone?

"I played Chaser also," she informed me. I glanced at her.

"Really?" I couldn't believe it. I didn't even know mum flew, let alone played Quidditch! I'd never seen her get close to a broom.

"Yes. I often played Seeker also, when-" and she stopped. I gazed her way, and stopped walking. Her eyes were closed, clasped together. What was this? Another little spell of difficulty in recovery? I figured that's what had happened in the bedroom. Something had reminded her of him, and she couldn't take it.

When mum opened her eyes, she didn't acknowledge me. She just walked quickly into the house. I gaped that way, feeling slightly insulted. So now she wasn't interested? She was going to leave? Well two could play that game. If she didn't want help, I wasn't going to offer it. Mum could get better on her own account. I wasn't having anything to do with it.


	6. Dreaming

I dragged myself up the stairs, feet tripping every now and then. Flying had made me tired, and all I wanted to do was take a nice nap. I sluggishly walked into my room (it had been added onto the Burrow when I was three and spent more time here than my actual home) and flopped down on my bed. The warm summer air was making me fall asleep faster than I normally would. I closed my eyes, and my breathing slowed...

"_I'm so sorry, Mrs. Potter…" the Healer trailed off. My eyes widened as I heard the sob rip from mum's mouth. I didn't understand. What was he talking about? What was happening? Someone was crying softly beside me. _

_"No." Mum said softly. "No, no, no. He can't be…" she gripped the edge of the hospital bed, and her stance was tense. "It's not…no!" She shook her head, and grabbed dad's arm with both hands. He didn't respond, he wasn't moving. Why? Dad never didn't hug mum, or do something when she touched him. That wasn't right, and even I, at six, could see this was strange and out of order. _

_"He promised. He said this couldn't happen! NO!" Mum started to shake his arm, but one of the Healers tried to pull her away. My Aunt, who was standing next to me, took my hand. _

_"Lily, come with me," she whispered. I tried to pull my hand out of hers, but I wasn't strong enough. I stayed rooted to the ground though, still wondering what was happening with mum and dad. _

_"LET GO OF ME!" Mum screamed suddenly, and I jumped slightly. The sound of her voice scared me. It was unnatural, wild, uncontrolled. She tried to wrench her arm away from the Healer, but he kept a firm hold._

_"Mrs. Potter, we have to take his body away," The Healer stated quietly. Mum kept shaking her head, and struggled against the Healers grasp. My family tried to come near her, but she cried out. It was the worst sound in the world, I was sure. It was filled with so much pain and despair. Hopelessness. I wanted to cover my ears, but Hermione kept her too- tight grip on my hand. She tried to pull me out of the room. I managed to keep away. I couldn't leave my mother in this state, where she was barely herself. _

_"GET OFF! I'M NOT LEAVING!! I CAN'T, I WON'T!" Now two Healers had taken her arms, and Uncle Ron--one of the few who had been allowed in when we had gotten the emergency call--walked over to her. _

_"Ginny, just let them take him away," he said, his voice laced with deep sadness. I still couldn't comprehend what was taking place. Why was everyone so distressed? I felt another tug on my hand, harder this time. _

_"I'm not going! HE ISN'T DEAD!! WHAT ABOUT THE BOND, HARRY?" Mum kept with yelling, saying things that didn't make any sense. The Healers were trying to levitate the bed with dad laying on it out of the room, but mum kept struggling forward, grabbing the sides before slipping away again. A _

_few of the men tried to stun her, but she dodged them. Screams emitted from her mouth more often now, sounding same as the first one. Scary, unreal. _

_Then one of the spells hit her. She was cut off mid-yell, and slumped forward, supported by the Healer. Hermione pulled me out of the hospital room quickly, and into the hallway. I stood against the wall, and she bent down to look me in the eyes. She wiped tears from her cheeks, but fresh ones just replaced them. _

_"What's going on, Aunty 'Mione?" My voice was small and young. Fright ran through it. Hermione closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. This scared me more. Hermione was never this.. disoriented. She always acted strong and capable. She always knew the answer. _

_"Baby, do you remember when we told you about how dangerous your daddy's job was?" Hermione asked. I nodded. That had been a rather serious discussion. _

_"Mhhm. Mummy said that daddy was a…a Auror, and stopped the bad people. The bad wizards." I was still a little confused, but kept my eyes focused on her face. Hermione took a few deep breaths. _

_"Yes. Well…"she seemed to be struggling."Your daddy got hurt. Really bad. And now…now he's going to get better. He--he died, Lily." With these words the hallway started to spin, and my mind couldn't function. That wasn't true. Dad was young. Only old people died, like mum's great-great something or other. Not young people, good ones, people like dad. _

_I shook my head. "But that's not possible. Daddy said he'd take me to Diagon Alley this weekend. He wouldn't not keep a promise." Hermione ran a hand over my hair, and tears spilled down her face. _

_"I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so, so, sorry." She wrapped me in a hug, and cried freely. I was slightly dazed, and only stayed close to her. Hermione rubbed my back, almost like she was trying to comfort _herself. _The it hit me. He wasn't going to get better this time. There would be no visiting a recovering father at St. Mungo's. No more hugs, or bedtime kisses, or flying in the backyard. No more. _

_I started to cry. My small shoulders shook, and soaked Hermione's shirt with tears, but she didn't care, because she was sobbing just as hard. Then I heard the scream again, the one I didn't want to hear, and that made it worse, and nothing was going to completely right again because daddy was gone and—_

My eyes flew open. _Damn, _I thought. _Stupid nightmare. _Though it was far from stupid. It was the most horrid thing I could remember. That was why it still haunted my dreams at least once a month. I couldn't escape it, no matter how hard I tried. Always the same. The same night, the same words, it wouldn't leave. Even though it was so recurring, the nightmare would shake me every time.

* * *

I sat up, and ran a shaky hand through my hair. I took a deep breath, trying to stay as calm as possible. The sun was beginning to set, and I knew dinner was going to start soon. I didn't feel like heading down, I just wanted to be alone. I stood up, and my legs were wobbly. I walked unsteadily out to the hallway. All was quiet, which was strange for this house.

I vaguely wondered where mum was, but banished the thought immediately. It brought back the dream, which I didn't want to relive. Too many bad memories, scattered around in my head like leaves in fall. They would always come back, trying to destroy me.

Without thinking about where I was going, I walked up the attic stairs. The air was musty in here, and light shining through the window on the left wall was slowly fading with the sun. I knew why I had come. I needed the box.

* * *

**A/N: This has to be the saddest thing I've ever written. Really, I didn't even know I could do something like this. Gosh. Any-who, I hope to have the next chapter up by Tuesday. That one will be harder to write, since I haven't got it all planned out yet. I've been thinking about this one pretty much all week! Well, please review! I LOVE getting feedback from my readers. It's awesome. **


	7. Hiding

I made sure to stay away from the far left of the attic, where the ghoul was. There wasn't much in the attic. A trunk, probably filled with old Hogwarts things, and some boxes. I dropped to my knees in front of one. There was no label on it, and dust thickly covered the top. I wiped it off, coughing as the dirt flew around. I pulled it open.

Inside were things I hadn't seen in years. I sweater, a small glass bottle, several photos… All of them my father's. Things too painful to be left out in the open, but too personal to be thrown away. I reached in and picked up one of the many pictures. It was at my fourth birthday party, I could tell by the smear of cake on my cheek. I was sitting between my mum and dad, and bouncing up and down. We looked so happy. I couldn't remember much about that day, except for small things. Things that didn't really matter.

I shakily put the put the picture on the floor. Slowly, I began to take out the others, and set them in rows with the first. Some I had never seen before. They all moved randomly against one another, making me slightly dizzy. People waving, smiling, laughing.

I peered into the box again, and picked up the sweater. It was green, and I could tell it was hand-knit. It had obviously been worn many times, it being faded and threads coming up and the end. I pressed my face to it, breathing in the smell that was purely dad. Tears pricked at my eyes, and soon I found myself crying into the sweater.

I never cried. Not like this. Even when I did have the nightmares, I'd never sobbed, just letting a few tears slip by. I was the strong one. I _had _to be. Otherwise, I would end up like mum. Afraid of everything that could remind me of him in the slightest way. And I didn't want that. Only one of us could be as unstable as she was.

I was still crying when I heard my name called. "Lily? Where are you?" Hermione was starting to walk up the steps to the attic. I wiped my eyes, though I knew they were still red, and quickly tried to throw all the pictures back in the box without crushing any, the sweater laying forgotten in my lap.

"There you-" Hermione stopped when she saw the clothing I was holding. I knew she recognized it instantly. Walking over to me, her face was concerned. She didn't question me; only wrapping me in a hug. I instantly responded, hugging back. Hermione rubbed my back, not saying anything.

Finally my crying stopped, and she pulled away. I smiled weakly at her, drying the tears on my cheeks. Hermione smoothed my hair, and grinned back.

"It's okay to cry, Lily," she said quietly. "You don't have to hide." I nodded, feeling guilty. Hermione could have that effect of me. She helped pull me up.

"Why are you in here anyway?" Hermione asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I just…" I didn't want to tell her about the nightmare. No one knew I had them, and I didn't feel like saying anything. I let it go off, wanting her to forget about it. Hermione looked at me suspiciously, but I tried my hardest to ignore it. She sighed, defeated.

"Come on, let's go to dinner. You slept through lunch, aren't you hungry?" she changed the subject, and I gratefully nodded. Suddenly, I was aware of how hungry I actually was. We walked to the kitchen, where my grandparents, Uncle Ron, the triplets, and mum were all sitting. It was quiet, just like breakfast.

"Oh, Lily, you're awake! Here, dear, let me get you something," Grandma started to pile food on a plate, then set it in front of me as I sat at the table. I began eating slowly, as the people around me talked quietly. Mum was the only one who seemed to be alone. She was separated, at the end of the table again, and she looked like she didn't belong. She stared at her food, barely eating.

Dinner passed quickly, and afterwards I made my way up to my room. I couldn't forget the look in my mother's eyes. It was one of fear, and loneliness. I wanted to believe she could get better without my help, and I could just let her heal on her own. But after seeing that, the way she was barely part of her own family anymore. They were scared of mum. Scared she would get lost again.

But Hermione still tried to help. She had tried to have at least a small conversation during dinner. Mum hadn't even tried to talk back. She nodded a few times, but other than that, she might as well have been back at the hospital.

Should she have stayed? Should mum have stayed at St. Mungo's, even after she started talking? Maybe that was better, for everyone. We could go back to being how we were. Happy.

Happy, but always missing something. Someone. We would never get him back, but I suddenly wanted to remember better than I could. I thought back to the first few months after dad died. I'd tried to always think of things that would remind me of him, because I didn't want to forget. Gradually though, memories faded. They became snippets, a little blip in time that was never enough.

Mum knew though. Mum remembered, probably the best of us all. And she didn't want to forget either, but she also didn't want to bring to mind anything at all. Maybe that was why she had been lost for so long. She was scared of memories, though still wanting to hang on.

Was that her fault? Or was there more? She might have hidden something, from everyone, even the doctors. That was why they couldn't help at all. All of a sudden, everything fell into place. More went on with mum and dad than they let on.


	8. Realizing

Over the next few days, I took to watching my mother. She was…interesting. She was quiet, and I knew this was wrong. From stories I'd heard, told by relatives, she used to be loud and opinionated. I wanted to know the real her, the person mum had been before dad died. But I wasn't sure if that was possible. I didn't think she could ever truly be the woman she once was. I was sad about it, but it just furthered my theory that there was something deeper than what she was telling anyone.

Things had been slightly less quiet than before around the Burrow. This was mostly thanks to the triplets, who made enough noise for all of us. Uncle Ron though, I noticed, spent more time at the Ministry than normal. It seemed like he was taking mum's return the hardest out of all of us. He rarely talked-not that he did much of that before-and was noticeably avoiding mum at all costs. It was hard to find him anywhere near her.

This was what I thought about as I stood in front of the counter in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for soup, that would be left stewing while we went to Diagon Alley. Hermione had planned the trip, because she thought mum shouldn't be away from the outside world. Grandma was busy tapping things with her wand, making pans flip themselves and water boil. Mum was there too, stirring the soup slowly the muggle way. She didn't have her wand-Hermione had gotten it from the doctors. She looked distracted, staring out the window at the late morning sun. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, with a few strands falling out. The sight was faintly familiar. I'd seen her like this, just a few times, when I was younger and she would cook without magic. I struggled to keep my face composed.

I was still chopping when Hermione stormed into the kitchen, a newspaper rolled up in her hand. She threw it down onto the table, and sat down grumpily, arms crossed. She glared at the paper.

"Aunt Hermione, what's wrong?" I asked, putting down the knife and turning to face her.

"_This,_" she held up the paper, waving it around, "is what's wrong! Someone told the Daily Prophet about Ginny!" She angrily flopped the paper down again. I glanced at mum to see how she reacted. She looked shocked, and scared. Mum slowly walked to the table, and unfolded the newspaper in front of her.

"_Ginny Potter-Home At Last?" _she read out from the headline. Her voice shook, but with what I couldn't tell. Anger? Fear? Mum back away, hands clasped tightly together. I sat down at the table, shocked. How could someone find out? The nurses weren't _supposed _to say anything, but rules could be broken, as I knew all too well.

Hermione pursed her lips, thinking. I was worried now. What if reporters started coming around the house? I mean, more than they did now. A few showed up every few months, but never stayed for more than an hour or two. Mostly because there was no story. The only time they printed anything about me was when I did something stupid at school and even then it was just a tiny article that most people wouldn't even scan over.

"Now we really need to go to Diagon Alley." She stated. "This is article is questioning if Ginny is fit to be with us. We'll show them she is." Mum nodded silently. Hermione stood, grabbing her purse. 

She walked briskly towards the fireplace. I didn't follow, but rather stood in the kitchen, confused. Hermione looked back at us.

"Well aren't you coming?" She asked, grabbing a handful of powder. I quickly nodded, understanding, and ran to the living room.

* * *

Diagon Alley was bustling with witches and wizards, as usual. I tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible, but it wasn't easy with my red hair standing out like a bright flame. People turned to look at us, whispering things I was used to by now: _Isn't that Harry Potter's daughter? I hear she's a wild one, always getting into trouble. _But now it was accompanied by something I wasn't familiar with: _That's Ginny Potter! Harry Potter's wife! She was finally let out of St. Mungo's, you know. _Most people did not talk about my mother. I didn't mention anything about her with my few friends, and they knew not to say a word. But now it was open conversation, the latest news.

I walked quickly, partly to keep up with Hermione's fast pace, and partly to ignore the gossiping groups of people. Mum walked not far in front of me, seeming very insecure. She kept stopping and closing her eyes, as if she was trying to regain composer. Hermione didn't look like she minded, halting when mum did. After about ten minutes, we finally reached Flourish and Blotts, the book store that was our destination, and the entire point of this trip.

The three of us entered, and I jumped slightly at the little tinkling noise the bell above the door made. Not many people were here, just a few standing by bookshelves. The cashier at the front wasn't paying attention-he was reading from a thick volume, completely immersed. He didn't even look up when we came in.

Hermione started browsing through the books, selecting two at a time. I couldn't tell how she knew what she needed, or what she was looking for, but didn't ask. Instead I wandered to the back of the store, reading the titles of the books. I knew my mum was somewhere near me, but didn't bother to look for her. The musty smell of the store was familiar, because I'd been here so often with my aunt. I wished we could stay long, but I knew she was a quick shopper.

All too soon Hermione was finished, and motioned for me to come up front. I followed, standing back a few feet from the counter. The man looked up, uninterestedly at first, but soon realization lit in his eyes. He grabbed his glasses from the shelf behind him, and dropped his book. I sighed inwardly. This was why I hated going out in the wizarding world. Everyone knew who I was, who my family was. It was irritating. I wanted to go out, and not have people whisper, or gossip. I was the same as them, a witch going to school, but they never seemed to notice this. To other people, I was Lily _Potter_, only daughter of the famous wizard who defeated Voldemort.

After finally regaining his composure, the man was able to ring up Hermione's books. His eyes kept flashing to me, then mum. It was along, drawn out process because of this, and I tried to keep from rolling my eyes. _Alright now, can we hurry this up? _I complained in my thoughts.

We were done when the purchases were bagged and Hermione was leading us out of the store. The street was just as busy as before, but I noticed the murmurs around us seemed to be getting slightly louder. We turned the corner. So close to being out of here, away from all the people…

"Well, look! It's Lily Potter!"

_Oh no. _I moaned. _Anything but this. _I stopped, like many of the shoppers around me, and looked toward the girl who called my name.

Alicia Moffat. The person who was out to make my life even worse. She had a smirked plastered on her thin pale face, and her slick black hair pulled into a ponytail. She glared mockingly at me, eyeborws raised. A challenge. _Might as well face it head on. I'm not a coward. _

"Hello Alicia." I tried to greet her as politely as I could. Which wasn't much. She'd been horrible to me ever since I'd started Hogwarts, and for no apparent reason.

"I hear your mum was finally let out of St. Mungo's. That her?" She jerked her head in the direction I knew my mother was behind me. This was what I was frightened of. The attacks on my family. They were the closest people to me, and I didn't take well to insults thrown at them.

"Yes," I answered tersely. A slow knowing smile slid slowly onto her face.

"So…She tried to kill you yet? Or does she just take shots on herself?" That set me off. I pulled my wand quickly out from my back pocket, where I always kept it. I stalked towards Alicia, anger emanating from my body. Alicia seemed to shrink just slightly.

"You evil, foul, little-" I was cut off from a smooth skinned hand suddenly grasping my elbow. I whipped around, ready to yell at anyone who stopped me from punishing Alicia for the things she said. What I didn't expect was my mother, eyes soft, to whisper, "Lily. Don't. It won't help anything."

My jaw clenched as I tried to keep from ripping my arm from her gentle but firm hold. I gave up reluctantly, and with one last shooting glance at Alicia, went to my family. Mum removed her hand gently, and for some reason I missed the feel of it. I realized it was the first time she had touched me in a motherly way. It felt good. I felt protected, and I liked it. I didn't _want _to like it.

Hermione was giving me her usual stern look. I couldn't return her gaze, but instead stared at the ground. I knew Alicia still had her eyes on me, but at the moment it was out of my mind. Hermione walked wordlessly to The Leaky Cauldron, and I followed, arms crossed. I felt mum's eyes on my back, studying, calculating.

I was used to Hermione scolding me, but not mum. She had never been there _to _be angry with me. It was always Hermione. Uncle Ron rarely ever yelled at me, so little that I barely remembered the times he had. I was always breaking the rules at Hogwarts, getting detentions for pranks. Hermione knew of it, and each time I was in trouble at school she always wrote me, telling me off for being so stupid.

I briefly wondered if mum was trying to take on her role as a mother. I pushed it away quickly. Somewhere, deep inside, I knew I kind of, somewhat, just a little, wanted her to. I wanted her to be normal, not so messed up inside. But I didn't want her to think she could come into my life like nothing happened. I wouldn't let her do that.

Maybe she knew I wasn't going to open up easily. Maybe she knew I _did _love her, no matter how I acted, or what I said. I truly hoped she did. Because the fact was that she, Ginny Potter, was my mother, and that wasn't ever going to change. And I needed to get used to it. I needed to…find out what was wrong. I needed to help her.

* * *

** Oh, gosh. I feel super, extremely, mega guilty. I KNOW this chapter has taken FOREVER for me to get up. It's just that school is ending, so I have tests coming out my ears. And I've had a little bit of a block on this chapter. That always happens to me around this time in a story. Good thing is, school ends in 7 DAYS!! And then, sweet glorious summer will be upon us, and pretty much all I'll do is write, read, and lay out in the sun. So, the next chapter might be added in the next two weeks. I may add a chapter to Voldemort's Problem in the next few days, because I feel like that story needs some love too. Well, anyway, YOU can show ME some love by…that's right. Reviewing.**


	9. Deciding

The Burrow was never completely quiet. Even at night, there were creaks, shuffles, and squeaks. That was one of the things I liked best about it: the noise, whether big or small, was always there in some way. They were comforting, and homey. The sounds of my childhood.

But tonight they were one of the many things keeping me up. I tossed and turned, unable to claim sleep. It was hot and humid, so I'd kicked off my covers in an attempt to get cool. It was no use. I climbed out of bed, not bothering to put on my slippers, and walked into the hallways. The floorboards groaned, I hoped no one would wake up. I made my way down the stairs, making sure to avoid the squeaky last step at the bottom.

There was a light on in the kitchen, and I was thankful I didn't have to fumble around for the switch. I pulled out a bowl of ice cream-probably too sweet to be eaten so late, but who really cared- and was just sitting down at the long wooden table, when I heard it. A shuffling of feet, walking into the kitchen. I turned around quickly, surprised.

Aunt Hermione came into view, wrapped up in a robe, arms crossed. I relaxed. She came over, leaning against the counter.

"What are you doing up, Lily?" she questioned, "It's late."

"I could ask you the same thing." I stated, trying to keep my tone under control. My sleepless night was making me snippy.

"True. I couldn't sleep." Hermione sat down across from me, a spoon in hand. "Let me have some of that." She said, taking a scoop. I smiled lightly.

"Ice cream this late at night? I was sure you wouldn't approve," I teased. Hermione only grinned, and put the spoon in her mouth. We ate in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the ticking of the old clock. Lost in thought, I didn't her Hermione at first.

"Lily? Did you hear me?"

"Um, sorry, what did you say?" I asked, feeling guilty for not listening.

"I said 'Why are you down here?'" She took another bite of ice cream.

"Oh. Err, just restless, I guess…" I trailed off. Hermione looked skeptical. I tried to sound convincing, but she knew there was something more.

"Really? No nightmares, or anything?" I shook my head. Aunt Hermione knew I had the occasional bad dream, but she didn't know how often. I couldn't tell her. It felt like I was admitting a weakness, which I didn't like. Hermione knew that.

"Lily…You can tell me anything. You know that, right?" For the first time I looked straight into her eyes. They were full of love, and care. I was suddenly very vulnerable, and could only nod awkwardly. Hermione sighed, then put down her spoon.

"I hate to bring this up, but…how do you think your mum is doing?" My stomach did a flip flop. Really, I didn't want to talk about this right now. I guess it showed on my face, because Hermione looked like she instantly regretted saying anything. I ran a hand through my hair, messing it up even more than it was before. I clasped my hands together.

"I…I don't know what I think, Aunt Hermione." I said truthfully. She nodded, and bit her lip.

"It's just…I worry that she isn't making any progress. I mean, the Healers are going to want to interview her again soon, and I want her to stay, but…I dunno. Nothing's really changed since she first got here." I was saddened by the despair written on Hermione's face. I didn't want to say anything, so kept quiet. Hermione sighed again, and stood up.

"Well, I better get back to bed. Don't stay up too late, Lily." She pressed a kiss to my forehead, then exited the kitchen. I grimaced at the now melted ice cream, and put the bowl in the sink. I was no longer hot, just suddenly very exhausted. I rubbed my eyes and walked back upstairs. The hallway wasn't so silent anymore. There was a soft murmur coming from the slightly open doorway on my left.

I walked towards it, nervous of what the sound was. I knew it was mum's room. I looked through the crack, to see my mum's red hair splayed across her pillow, and her face was peaceful . I noticed it was a nice expression on her, one I never saw. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. I was about to walk away, when I heard a small laugh. It was barely noticeable, but it made me look back. Mum laughed again, and my stomach twisted. I hadn't heard that in so long: her laugh. It was wonderful hearing it again, even it was in a dream. I wondered what she was dreaming of, but knew instantly when she muttered dad's name.

I slight trill of fear ran down my spine when her face twisted into a mask of worry. I gripped the door handle subconsciously. Mum whimpered, and I debated waking her up. She cried out and turned over. I made up my mind; I went briskly to her bedside, ignoring my rapidly beating heart, and shook her shoulder.

Her eyes snapped open, and flashed around before finally settling on me. They were wide, and naked fear showed plainly. I stepped back, and mum took a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose herself. Her breathing was off—too ragged. I waited for it to calm down before speaking.

"Um, you were having a bad dream," _I think she knows that, Lily._"I woke you up." Mum nodded, then looked up at me. Here eyes were still wide, and her lips parted.

"Lily-pad…" She whispered. I winced; I hadn't been called that in years. Only daddy called me Lily-pad. It had always been his special nickname.

"You're safe, thank God." Mum closed her eyes, throwing her head back down on her pillow. I felt out of place, standing on the middle of her room while she struggled to gain composure. My arms snaked around my stomach, and I was about to turn around and walk away when she sat up again.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. Her face was not fully composed, with fear still in her eyes. "I hate nightmares but I can't stop them." I looked down at my feet.

"I understand. Happens to everyone. " My sentences were short, clipped. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Mum exhaled noisily, and rubbed her face.

"But not to that extent. They just seem so _real. _Every time…" Her voice was quiet and pained. I got the feeling she didn't want to tell me this, but felt she needed to. I looked anywhere except her: the walls, the dresser, the window. "I thought they were gone now. I thought I had control, but he keeps coming back." I didn't want to hear anymore. My heart was speeding up. This was too close to dangerous waters. I backed towards the door, and put my hand on the handle, not so subtly showing my want to leave. I know mum got the hint. She laid down, her back turned to me.

I practically ran back to my room, and jumped into bed, pulling the covers over my head. I pressed my face into the pillow, fighting the urge to scream. I had been so close to talking with her, then chickened out. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _I scolded myself. _You could have found out so much! Talk to her! _I knew I needed to, but couldn't bring myself to formulate a plan. It was too complicated, too hard. Everything was just _too hard. _I flipped over, and stared at the ceiling.

_Ok. Tomorrow. _I decided. _You will find a time to ask her about…what? _I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking. _Just…ask her about the dream. Yeah, the dream. Good. _The decision was made then. Tomorrow, I would ask my mother what she'd dreamt about. _This could be disastrous. _

But it just might work.

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**AN: Woo! Fast chapter! I actually wrote most of this in one night. The next chapter will be in Ginny's POV, and will probably be up by Friday. **

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